


212

by evr



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 03:11:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14010903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evr/pseuds/evr
Summary: Mikleo learns that invisibility is fun. Sorey learns that Mikleo's kind of a jerk.Re-post.





	212

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote this it filled a need. I'm sure it no longer needs to be filled but here it is anyway.  
> From 2016-04-11  
> The original notes:  
> "Sorry for the steep dip in quality, I'm kind of sick of looking at this one, especially after a chunk of it disappeared and had to be redone! But I wanted to post it anyway. The world needs more Mikleo being playfully aggressive and taking the lead.  
> I've meant to write it since my first time playing the game because I couldn't get the thought out of my head.  
> It's silly."

 

 

Mikleo is a striking beauty. Sorey thinks most humans would agree to that at first sight, could they see him. His coloring and features are mostly soft, easy on the eyes. His body is slender and his skin is a delicious creamy ivory color. Every part of him is beautiful. And his personality is just as great; he's a supportive friend, a loving boyfriend, and the most intellectually stimulating person Sorey knows.

Sometimes, though, Mikleo is an asshole.

He should've known what would happen, he's really not that dense when it comes to his best friend. That look Mikleo gave him right after Lailah excused herself to check up on things in town should have made it obvious that he was behind her absence.

Being pushed back into the inn room and against a wall, that should've clued him in that maybe Mikleo wanted some alone time.

Sorey feels like an idiot, and maybe he is one. Mikleo pinning him, claiming desperate, hungry kisses from his lips, Sorey should have just gone with the flow, maybe told the innkeeper he was sick while Mikleo's hands were digging under his clothes, fingertips grazing his skin in the most seductive way imaginable.

"Congratulations," He'd managed to say between kisses, amid heavy breathing, "on becoming the Shepherd." The cloak pushed out of the way, shirt undone, Sorey melts under his touches.

Yeah… Sorey should have just rolled with it, because it has kind of been a while (Alisha had disrupted every routine they had, and then traveling… too much is in the way). Instead, once the innkeeper knocked on his door and asked if he was alone and available, he and Mikleo exchanged glances and his mind froze up.

"...Y-yeah… I guess…"

Mikleo's expression then told him he'd given the wrong answer.

So now he's at a table being served food, really good food, that he can't touch. Mikleo sits beside him, quite closely, discreetly touching him under the new Shepherd's cloak. Mikleo is great with his hands. It's not the first time he's noticed.

Really, really great with his hands.

At first he thinks this will be over fast, and he'll be back under those hands properly, in privacy, but the couple that owns the inn keep talking to him.

"The princess seems very fond of you." That made Mikleo chuckle, and pinch him.

His back straightened, "O-oh, you think?"

"Oh, yes." One of them declares jovially, "Just imagine, the princess found a new Shepherd. It could be such a romantic story!"

"Oh, I don't think--"

Mikleo licks his ear, and he feels himself turn red.

"Nonsense!" The woman continues, adding food to his plate that he'd barely been capable of touching. She goes on to ramble about how sweet Alisha is, and how generous it is to give him that cloak.

He's a lot more concerned with everything going on _under_ the cloak now. Under his breath, he asks, "What are you doing?"

"There are a lot of benefit to being invisible after all." Mikleo replies, volume normal in a singsong tone that fills Sorey with dread. "Just come up with an excuse to leave."

"I can't! You keep-- ah…" His voice cracks when Mikleo's hand very, very slowly pulls the cord holding his belt together.

"Shepherd, are you okay? You seem a little flushed."

"No, I- I'm fine. Really!" He forces a laugh, and Mikleo gives a real one.

Mikleo kisses the side of his face and tells him he's an idiot, quietly this time. One of those amazingly skilled hands finds its way down the front of his pants.

"He's just embarrassed, I'm sure. You keep talking up the princess as though he wouldn't already know how perfectly lovely she is."

"Hmm, yes, she is perfectly lovely, isn't she? Go ahead and tell them, Sorey." Mikleo taunts, fingers crawling slowly downward.

Sorey whimpers quietly. This is too much, entirely too much, and Mikleo seems positively thrilled by it. A knuckle brushes lightly against his stiffening erection and his back straightens.

"She's uh. Great. Isn't she more proud of her knighthood, though?" He tries desperately to distract from his behavior and Mikleo laughs so hard he's almost in tears.

The couple look at each other oddly, but they at least seem pleased.

"They're probably trying to involve you in politics," Mikleo points out, fingers coiling around Sorey's arousal and giving a gentle squeeze. "If Alisha gets support from the Shepherd, her standing will be even better."

That's great and all, but Sorey has no mind for political struggles while Mikleo is feeling him up. He glances over. Mikleo looks smug.

"If I were you, I'd keep my hands busy so nobody will be suspicious…"

Maybe too panicked, Sorey grabs his fork and knife and focuses hard on making sure he was moving naturally. Mikleo's laughter tells him he's trying too hard, and deft fingers tell him it doesn't matter. He manages to cut a piece and shovel some fish into his mouth. Too much, it's hard to chew.

The innkeeper's wife titters and pats his back. "How do you like the food? The princess enjoys our sweetfish often."

He swallows it forcefully and it kind of hurts. "It's really good." His voice cracks, Mikleo still grinning as his thumb rubs over the glans, slick with precum.

It's not that he's too sensitive, it's that Mikleo is _really_ skilled with his hands, knows every little thing that gets Sorey worked up. And it's definitely been a while.

He flashes a desperate look and Mikleo leans close again, presses a kiss to his jaw. "Still can't excuse yourself?"

He groans through another mouthful. The seraph is relentless.

The innkeepers keep talking, and he barely registers half of what they say, paying more attention to resisting Mikleo now, keeping his hips still and his voice quiet. Eating is almost impossible really, and he can't enjoy it (though he's positive he would if his boyfriend wasn't intent on tormenting him). While they talk, he nods along.

The woman tries to sit beside him, right where Mikleo currently is, and he panics again, holding out his hands. "It's just… uh. What if Alisha comes by…?"

They both look at him and then each other, hiding excited smiles. His boyfriend is somehow even _more_ amused, eyebrows raised in mock surprise. "Really? Oh, I should make some room for her, shouldn't I?"

"No, I--"

"No need to be embarrassed!" Lady Innkeeper tells him, forcing more food on his plate.

No, there is every need to be embarrassed. Mikleo lets go of him only to hold him in his seat by the thighs as he slips under the table. He's under the table and Sorey feels like he might actually _die_ of embarrassment if he's caught now.

Those hands are holding his thighs apart. Sliding closer again. He really wants to look, but leans forward instead, hoping the new cloak will drape over him and hide him from view.

"Don't slouch." Mikleo scolds playfully. He has Sorey's pants undone and his erection freed in seconds, and Sorey lets slip a whine, higher-pitched than he's proud of.

"S-so! What else can you tell me about… About Ladylake?" They're staring with odd looks on their faces, and he hears laughter again under the table. As petty revenge, he kicks the seraph (it feels like he made contact with a knee) and he knows instantly that he's going to be made to regret that.

"Shepherd, are you sure you're okay? You've been feverish for days, maybe you need a little more rest."

He feels hot breaths and Mikleo's hand is still around the base of his length. Sweat climbs down his back. "Yes! Yes, maybe. Maybe that will help." Wetness glazes along the underside and he bites back a yelp, "As soon as I'm finished."

They're still staring. Mikleo roars with laughter.

"...Eating. Finished eating."

"Of course. What else would you mean?" The man asks.

"So. What's the story with the royal family, anyway?" He doesn't actually care, he's so far beyond caring and Mikleo's warm mouth is wrapped around him, gentle cooling breaths from his nose, fingernails grazing his thigh. He's done for.

He hopes it's a long story. As soon as they start, he can tell it is and he sighs, slouching again and faking an interest in his food while he pretends to listen.

He's fidgeting. He can't keep his hips still any longer, wanting to be sucked in deeper, his vision blurs and he blinks to clear it, eyes narrow and straight ahead but not registering exactly what he sees. Of course, then Mikleo stops and pulls back.

"Damn-" He starts, purposely dropping his fork and leaning down to reach for it and, of course, hiss irritably at his boyfriend, " _What are you doing?!_ "

Mikleo hands him the utensil and grins, the corners of his mouth glistening and wet, "Keep your elbows off the table, it's bad manners." What a jerk. He's just doing this to torture him - and honestly if he could think straight or if he could muster the confidence to make it back to their room without his knees giving out under him, he'd leave and they'd have their privacy.

He sits back up after throwing Mikleo as much of a glare as he can without being suspicious, and he forces a smile, " _Please_ , continue."

Mikleo laughs before taking the hint, his hand maneuvering into Sorey's pants again, fondling and prodding around, fingers wet and firm as they massage the perineal area, a neat trick Mikleo had learned by toying with Sorey's body before, in a far more private setting. Without thinking, he adjusts to accommodate and he gets another odd look, but waves his hand to dismiss it.

The innkeepers talk more about how great Alisha is, and Mikleo's mouth is back on him, swallowing around him repeatedly and moving his head. Sorey works hard on not showing just how great it feels.

It doesn't exactly work, Mikleo's fingers clumsily working him in all the best ways, his mouth draining so much out of him.

When there's an unexpected lull in the conversation that he was only pretending to listen to, he throws out any neutral-sounding question he can come up with. "How long ago was that?" And they continue.

And he'd feel the air of Mikleo's laughter through his nose, and he really wants to kick him again but can't in his current position.

He's close. He sets down his knife and fork and grabs the edge of the table instead, trying to keep steady, and he doesn't warn Mikleo because he has a feeling he'd just slow down again to torture him further.

He lurches forward as he comes, covering his mouth and squeezing his eyes shut while Mikleo swallows him down, making indecent sounds just to mess with him more.

"Oh no!" The innkeeper's wife exclaims, "Are you feeling that ill? Let me find some stomach medicine. Dear, help the shepherd to his room, will you?" He doesn't answer immediately, catching his breath and gripping the edge of the table still to stay steady.

He can't decide if it's mercy or just decency that leads Mikleo to refasten his pants before he comes out from under the table, grinning widely. "Well that was interesting. I should do that more often."

"NO!" Sorey says loudly, then corrects himself, "I mean, uh. No. I can get there, it's fine."

It isn't fine. Mikleo helps him to his feet and steadies him with a hand on his shoulder (where it's less likely to catch fabric, be noticeable), guiding him back to their room slowly. Maybe three days of sleep wasn't enough after all.

He's willingly pushed onto the bed because he's still coming down, but he feels Mikleo removing his cloak with a lot of care, and sees him fold it and set it aside. Then he opens and pulls off his overshirt, pulls off his shoes. He's a lot less careful with those things. Pants are gone next.

Those hands, those _hands_ , they cup his face and Mikleo steals a kiss while straddling him, and the taste is just a little strange but he doesn't have any room to care.

"You're an ass." Sorey mumbles.

"And I didn't lock the door." Mikleo teases.

"You're just lucky I love you."

Mikleo doesn't like saying that he loves Sorey - he always says he isn't embarrassed, but he always blushes when Sorey tells him. His eyes sharpen and he glances away, his response barely audible. No matter, he always _shows_ better than he tells.

His undershirt is discarded on the floor and Mikleo begins undressing himself. He can tell that the seraph doesn't _intend_ to make a show of it, but somehow he does anyway, shaking his shoulders to let his top slide down his arms.

His boyfriend's skin is so pale, it's like the sun couldn't find him any better than most humans could. It's so smooth when Sorey grabs his waist and he knows he ought to feel blessed. He does, in a way. His heart swells when Mikleo shivers.

Mikleo adjusts, pushing his knees under Sorey's legs and pressing himself between them after pulling off his pants. Excitement is a chill running from the base of his spine.

"Excuse me. Shepherd?" There's a knock at the door, "I have stomach medicine. May I bring it in?"

"N-no, I think I just… Need more rest!" Sorey calls back tiredly. "Don't come in."

"Alright… I'll leave it out here, just in case." Footsteps gain distance, and they laugh together now.

Mikleo is smiling at him, sliding his hands across Sorey's chest, gently scratching and then massaging his fingers into the skin. "Was that so difficult?"

"You make everything more difficult," He answers, leaning back lazily and letting Mikleo do as he pleases.

There's pure delight in Mikleo's voice as he chuckles. Those perfect, talented hands move down his body, and soon he feels a mouth on his stomach, ticklish bites and kisses where his skin is the most tender (and his boyfriend is an expert on all of his sensitive spots - Sorey always feels like he's still learning by comparison).

There's no reason to resist now, but he's unsure of how soundproof the walls are. He holds tight to bed dressings, clenching and unclenching his fists around them while Mikleo prepares him.

"Relax, Sorey," Mikleo breathes softly against his skin. "I don't want to hurt you."

It always hurts a little bit, because as Mikleo knows now, Sorey is impatient. That first burst of pressure (and pain, sometimes, but Mikleo was usually successful in dulling it) is something he actually wants. Too much preparation detracts from that. Mikleo is the opposite, but he's nothing if not accommodating to Sorey's tastes. "I'm fine."

Anticipation raises goosebumps when Mikleo leans back and positions himself.

But then there's that feverish heat of sex, the cold sweat on his skin keeping him tightly wrapped together and grounded. He takes a heavy breath and reaches for the seraph to come closer. "Ready when you are."

Mikleo is deep in concentration, his hands traveling Sorey's body with such delicate care. Before he even starts to move, he helps Sorey up, spine curled in a slightly uncomfortable way, but he wants to hold the seraph in his arms and hear every breath he takes.

"You really enjoyed that, didn't you?" Mikleo teases when he starts to move, "I'm surprised."

"It's not that," Sorey pauses, kissing Mikleo's forehead gently and holding that position, breathing against his hair in gasping breaths, "I've never seen _you_ enjoy this that much. I liked that part."

Mikleo exhales a soft laugh, more energized than before, "It is _really_ fun to mess with you."

Gravity plays a heavy part in their position, he falls hard onto Mikleo's lap without any effort on his part. Deep and fast, his body aching with heat, he moves his hips desperately until one of those hands is back on him. It's tight, slick and moving with Mikleo's pace.

His legs coil tight around Mikleo's hips and he grinds down harder, murmuring soft pleas under his breath that the seraph seems to revel in, shivering with delight at every whisper.

Suddenly Mikleo stills and withdraws, semen spilling on Sorey's thigh and hip. At the same time, a heat foreign to this experience fills and abandons him, leaving his skin tingling with cold sweat.

He lets out a surprised sound at the abrupt emptied feeling. Mikleo presses an apologetic kiss to his lips.

"Sorry," the seraph murmurs, taking a few seconds to catch his breath, "Sorry. I've got you."

"You don't have to- Ah!" He shouts as Mikleo enters him again, forceful and urgent (though Sorey has to imagine it hurts, his boyfriend's face contorted with his concentration and possibly pain). That dizzying heat rises and falls with every insistent thrust inside of him.

And it feels _amazing_.

It makes him forget to keep his voice down. Elysian homes were cut from solid stone, and sound didn't carry through them well, and this is an entirely new experience.

His cries are interrupted by a knock at the door. A devious grin spreads across Mikleo's face, and he finds himself pushed down onto his back, the seraph over him. Not stopping. That expression makes it clear they're not _going_ to stop, not if it hurts and not if he's humiliated.

"Shepherd? Are you okay? We heard something..."

Rattling, a doorknob turning, Sorey's heart almost stops. Hinges creak, or maybe it's the bed under their weight. He hadn't noticed that.

"I'm fine!" He answers, too loud and Mikleo laughs at him against his neck. "It's fine... D-don't come in!"

Teeth sink into his skin and he claps a hand over his mouth.

"Alright then. Please call for us if you need anything."

"You're such a..." Sorey gasps out, his words deteriorating into whimpers. His hands clamp down on Mikleo's shoulders, fingers digging into his skin as his climax builds. With the first spasm, he tries to be quiet (he's not sure he's successful), whining and holding Mikleo close. Chills crawl up and down his spine and he writhes, kisses on his neck and chest and hands skating down to his thighs.

Undone and winding down, he realizes that he's probably bruised that soft skin, and regrets it.

"I'm such a…?"

Well, maybe he doesn't regret it that much.

Mikleo grins at him again, laughter in his eyes and hair clinging to his face with sweat; he folds his arms and rests his head on Sorey's chest, still staring gleefully up at him.

"An exhibitionist." Sorey answers dryly. He can't keep a straight face.

"Does it really work that way, if nobody can see me?"

"You wouldn't like the other thing I came up with." He chuckles, wrapping his arms around Mikleo's body and rolling them both onto their sides, Mikleo pinned against the wall. He makes a surprised noise, hesitates, and then caves, snuggling up against Sorey's body.

"Lailah will probably come back soon," Mikleo says, "We should get cleaned up."

Sorey laughs into his friend's hair, "I have a feeling she'll give us a while longer."

"...Why?"

"She was in my head for a few seconds. Didn't sense it?"

"I… What? We were…" Mikleo is looking up at him with eyes as wide as he's ever seen them, his face turning red. "Why didn't you--?!"

"Exhibitionist."

Embarrassed speechless, Mikleo hides his face against Sorey's chest. Sorey smiles and strokes his back in lazy circles, drifting slowly to sleep.

"Asshole." Mikleo finally says. Sorey hugs him tighter and tries not to laugh.

 


End file.
